


(Don't) Use Your Words

by PetitAvocat



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 12:43:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetitAvocat/pseuds/PetitAvocat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders and Hawke hurt each other with words, and heal with bodies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Don't) Use Your Words

“Will you  _stop_  with this damned manifesto!”  Hawke tore the pages in half and flung them to the ground. 

“And what would you have me do?  Become complacent?  Sit by and watch while my brothers and sisters are tortured, imprisoned, executed?”  His eyes flashed, and for a terrifying fraction of a second Hawke couldn’t tell if it was Anders or Justice in front of him.

Then the moment was over, and Anders’s lip curled in a sneer.  ”Would you have me sit by and do nothing, the way  _you_  do?”

“I would have you think about the consequences of your actions!”  Hawke took a breath, trying to calm his racing heart, trying to still his shaking hands.  ”You are drawing attention to yourself with these writings.  You’re going to get yourself killed if you’re not careful.”

His voice broke on the word  _killed_ , and Anders froze, half-turned away from the other man.

“And why should I be careful?”  The unspoken words were,  _give me a reason to live, tell me that despite everything, you can find it in yourself to care for me_.

“You  _know_ , Anders.”  Damn it, his hands were shaking again.  ”You know that I can’t — I couldn’t — “

In a blur, Anders was pressed against him, one hand in his hair and the other tight against the small of his back, kissing him, biting his lips and moaning breathlessly into his mouth.

“ _Anders_ ,” he gasped against the healer’s lips, and was answered with a hard grind of Anders’s hips into his, fingers tightening in his hair, and he turned, walked Anders backwards and blindly swept his arm across the nearest table, pushing papers, wooden bowls, empty bags to the ground.

“Hawke, I — “

“Don’t, just —  _don’t_.”

Hawke pushed him down, standing with one leg between his thighs, his other knee propped on the table.  Anders’s hand automatically went to it, sliding up his thigh, gripping his ass and pulling him closer.  He rolled his hips against Anders’s thigh, and felt the other mage mirror his movement, the shape of his cock clear through the fabric separating them.

“I need you,” he said, hoping Anders knew enough to know the word he meant to say instead.  His fingers tugged at the strings of Anders’s trousers, roughly pulling them open, stifling his protests with a mouth slotted over his, sliding his tongue along Anders’s lower lip, pushing his lips harder, desperately, against the other man’s.

He yanked down Anders’s pants and slid down to one knee with them, faster than Anders could react, mouth moving from his lips to the base of his cock.  There was a loud thud of his elbows hitting the table, barely keeping himself propped up to watch.  One of his hands tangled in Hawke’s hair again as he tongued his way up Anders’s length.

There was no time for foreplay here, not with the consuming need they had for each other.  Hawke reached his tip and slid his lips down the man’s shaft, taking him as deep as he could on the first pass and hearing a strangled cry from above him, feeling hips tremble below him with the urge to thrust up.

Anders was trying so hard to control himself, but Hawke only wanted him undone.

He swallowed around the cock in his mouth, and slid a hand down to cup Anders’s balls, massaging them gently, fingers reaching up to explore the sensitive skin behind them and then circling his entrance.  With nothing to slick the way, he didn’t press in, only explored with his fingers, teasing with the promise of what they’d had before, what they could have again.

He loved this, watching Anders writhe, waiting for the moment when he would look down the length of his body to see Hawke with his lips stretched around his cock, cheeks hollowed as he bobbed his head, light eyes fixed on Anders’s face.  He thrived on the heavy panting, the fingers twisting in his hair and the hips that finally couldn’t stay still, bucking up and thrusting his cock further down Hawke’s throat.

Hawke moaned around him, and he fell onto his back, his free hand slamming onto the edge of the table, holding it like a lifeline as Hawke’s tongue flickered along his length.  He pulled back, sucked gently on the head, and dropped back down until Anders hit the back of his throat.

“Hawke, I – oh, _Maker_ , I can’t –”

Yes, _those_ were the sounds he wanted.  He needed this, they both did – they hurt each other with words so often that this, pushing each other over the edge with their bodies, this was how they healed.  This was _Hawke’s_ way of healing, both of himself and of his lover, showing him that no matter how many times they pushed each other away through what they said, _this_ was how they would come back together.

This was how Hawke loved.  He loved until they both fell apart, and then he put them together again.

And right now Anders was truly coming apart above him.

His hips were moving to meet Hawke every time he lowered his head, and his breaths were tiny voiced whimpers.  His hand had left Hawke’s hair to grab the other side of the table, bracing himself, head thrown back and neck pale and exposed and hair mussing, legs spread as wide as he could.

Hawke took him deep and swallowed, caressing his balls again, pulling at them, squeezing, tonguing his cock until Anders’s body seized up for just an instant – he cried out and then _arched_ , beautiful, perfect in that frozen moment.  Hawke swallowed until he had finished, and then gently pulled back, kissing his tip before tucking him back into his trousers.

He stood, and helped the mage back into a seated position.  Anders slumped against him, arms locking around his waist.

“Thank you,” he said, and Hawke knew enough, then, to know what he really meant.


End file.
